Epiphany
by LadyEmiMarie
Summary: Magnus contemplates the universe, Alec contemplates Magnus. - Very short.


Magnus was laid on the kitchen counter when I walked in. It was an odd place to lounge, even by my boyfriend's standards, yet there he was.

I watched him for a few moments; he was on the island section with his feet resting against one edge and his head near the other, gazing at the white expanse of ceiling above him. Magnus' knees were bent and sticking up into the air. I noticed that there was a smattering of rhinestones on his dark jeans. Like scattered stars. They glinted in the electric light as he moved slightly, taking a drag from one of his cigarettes.

"Is there a problem with the couch?" I questioned.

In response, Magnus blew a perfect ring of smoke into the air. I was pleasantly surprised that it didn't smell like tobacco smoke, instead it had the faint aroma of burned sugar. Just like magic. I couldn't keep myself from taking a deep inhale when I got closer.

"I'm contemplating the Universe, Darling." Magnus drawled in a tone which made him sound wise and bewildered all at once. There was a chance he'd been drinking. I looked around but there wasn't a half-emptied bottle of pink liquid in sight. "Who has ever had an epiphany while they mooched on the couch?"

I pulled up a stool and sat at the counter, resting my head in one of my hands. "Whereas everybody becomes inspired when they're relaxing on their kitchen worktops?"

"Precisely." Said Magnus. I shook my head at him. He flicked cigarette ash and it poofed into oblivion like a cloud of baby powder.

"What _is_ in those, anyway?" I asked, reaching out for the stick curiously. I thought surely the usual rules about smoking didn't apply to whatever it was; until my boyfriend pulled his hand out of my reach.

"Nothing good for you, Darling." He said before taking another drag and blowing a torrent of smoke from his lips. I was about to make a comment about hypocrisy when, with a wave of his other hand, the sweet-scented smoke was manipulated into a heart shape solid enough for my fingertips to graze its tangible surface. Then it dispersed as though it was never there. My fingers tingled in the empty air.

"Nice trick." I said. "You never really answered me, though."

"It's not a secret." Magnus' voice was strained with the effort of sitting up. He sat cross-legged and stretched his back out. At the same time I noticed the Chairman stretching on the other side of the room. The actions of the cat-eyes beings were shockingly similar at times. Sometimes I wondered if it was some kind of empathy which attracted Magnus to the kitten. "The answer is just painfully dull. It's to do with Warlocks having a better tolerance for Daemonic things; like Shadowhunters," he gestured towards me while snapping the butt in his hand away, "can bare marks, and Fae folk aren't sent du-lally from their own fruit."

I blinked, forgetting most of the short lecture. "Du-lally? By the Angel you're old..."

Offended, Magnus kicked me in the shoulder. I grabbed his ankle and pulled him off the counter so he landed squarely in my lap. The scent of sandalwood and sweetness filled the air.

"I prefer 'cultured', or 'experienced'." He said, planting a kiss on my forehead. His hair, I noticed, wasn't gelled. Strands of it tickled at my temples and I smiled.

"Antique?" I offered.

Magnus scoffed a sad look in his eyes. "Hardly. Antiques get lost and damaged. I'm more of a monument. A _landmark_ among humans."

I tried not to be effected by the bitterness in his tone. It wasn't something I really understood or anything he liked to explain. I'd never truly fathom the meaning of immortality, the drawbacks to the positives. All I knew was that Magnus had experienced the some of the greatest joys life ever had to offer but the cost of that was to go through heart-breaking suffering as well.

Sometimes, we'd just be talking and I'd realise that Magnus wasn't listening anymore. Like something I'd said had sparked a memory. Then the whole mood could change, he'd variably smile or frown or laugh to himself but would _always_ look melancholy over it. I didn't ask. Contrary to popular belief there were a lot of things I _didn't_ ask about, too.

In a weird way, I knew without knowing.

"You've been damaged." I said. "You've been lost."

Magnus gave me a surprised look, and then his face softened. "I've been making repairs." He remarked. "And I'm not lost with you, Alexander."


End file.
